


Loop

by Smiley5494



Series: English Assignments [8]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Existential Crisis, Existentialism, Gen, Hell Yeah!!, Introspection, POV Second Person, Snapshot in Time, but minimal - Freeform, going to work in the morning, im pretty proud of this tbh, its been marked and i got an A for it!, more like, to the extreme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29374950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smiley5494/pseuds/Smiley5494
Summary: There is a train at the station.
Series: English Assignments [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671247
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Loop

**Author's Note:**

> this story was sparked by an image prompt and was entirely handwritten, then transcribed so i could put it here.
> 
> the image was one of a Tokyo train station during rush hour, packed with people of all races, genders, and appearances, and we were tasked to write a short story about the people focusing on detail.

There is a train at the station.

It’s a train that will take you to work, it’s a train that you cannot miss—well, you can, but life flows faster when it is easy.

There is a sea of faces; each different and yet exactly the same. They all wear solitude and boredom as a second skin.

Everyone is the same as you—standing there waiting for the train to open its doors.

Everyone is different to you—you are on a call, the phone pressed flush against your ear; “Don’t be late,” the voice on the other end says, “I won’t.” You promise back, even though you know you cannot. It is the same call as yesterday and it will be the same call tomorrow.

You cannot break this loop: day after day, you do the same thing with nothing to show for it.

The sea of people around you move as one, pushing and pulling, a tide of bodies. They are automations, standing there, waiting for the doors to open. They are entirely dependant on the train’s whims; followers waiting for a cue that will tell them what to do.

Then again, you are an automation too. Day in, day out, you stand here on this platform waiting for the same train. Why? What purpose does this bring? What a boring life you lead, void of difference, void of creativity, to do the same thing every day for your whole life until you either retire or die. There is no enjoyment here, no spontaneity and you are sick of it.

The man in front of you has music blaring through his headphones, he is handsome, in a generic sort of way, there are a hundred men like him on this platform waiting for the same train. His music has the same tune as whatever music is currently popular on the radio, and you wonder if he knows it is audible to everyone around him.

Perhaps, he doesn’t care? You have known people like that, people you have loved and hated. There is at least one in every group, and you cannot fault them.

There is a woman, two people over, and she wears clothing that you have walked past every day, the same thing that lines a thousand shelves. She holds her phone in the air for everyone to see—possibly that makes it easier for her to see?—she is looking at images of cars. You wonder if she is thinking of buying, it would certainly make it easier for her to get to work.

She is the sort of person who has to do things her way, and you can understand that, after all, you are similar in a way. You and her are the sort of people who have to take and hold a phone to view it.

The train doors open, and the wave of faces surge forward. It is a sea where every droplet appears different but each has the same purpose—to work and earn money and do it all again, just for the right to live.

Pushing and being pushed you and the crowd fit yourselves into the carriages.

You are all automations moving as one, until you are all within the train. It is eight in the morning and you are all going to work in the same direction. What a boring, terrible, life to lead, where how well you work, and for how long directly determines how well you survive: your quality of life.

There is a train at the station, and now it is time to go.

**Author's Note:**

> while this wasn't an assignment per se, more something we did during class, it was still marked by my teacher using the advanced English marking guide for either yr 11 exams or the HSC, and I'm proud to say that this was marked as being an A!!


End file.
